Why We Are Here
by praetorianprefect
Summary: Action! Adventure! Intrigue! Guns! THE UNITED STATES MARINES! Roanapur has them all. Well, except for that last one. But not for long. A Marine Raider finds himself dragged into this rather unpleasant city. Follow Corporal Meier and watch this malestrom of fire, blood, and mayhem from his perspective.


Reference note:

*Sounds*

'Thoughts'

"Speaking"

:Non-English-Language:"Words"

AN: This Fanfic takes place in a 2016 setting of Black Lagoon. The plot will be considered to have advanced to the end of the Japan arc and all characters are aged similarly to their ages in the animated series. In addition, Balalaika and her troops are now veterans of the First Chechen conflict (1994-1996), a slightly more intense but shorter conflict (casualty estimates for Russian Federation range from 3,500 to 14,000 KIA at most) against a guerilla force. In addition, the results of the 2016 election will be markedly different. I have not decided who to hand the election to but, rest assured, nobody who actually ran in that stunningly lacklustre lineup is actually being considered. After all, I'd hope none of you are here for the riveting political discourse. And this story does not mean that I am abandoning RWWBY, in case any of you happens to be concerned.

Why We Are Here

Ch1: Just guess who I am

(August 24, 2016, 1832 Local time)

[Bonhomme Richard, 31st MEU. Approx 10mi south Pulau Airabu, Gulf of Thailand/South China Sea]

*ALL MARINE RAIDERS, REPORT TO EMERGENCY BRIEFING. REPEAT. ALL MARINE RAIDERS REPORT TO EMERGENCY BRIEFING ASAP*

"The hell's going on today?" I say, turning to look at the man standing next to me. We're both on the port side of the LHD-6 Bonhomme Richard, a USMC Wasp-Class amphibious assault ship currently transporting the 31st MEU.

"No idea Johnny boy." Cpl. Avery Revio says with a smirk.

"How many times do I have to tell you man, it's Johann. Plus, I outrank you so shaddap." I chuckle. Revio and I met in basic and both managed to get assigned to the same MEU and the same fireteam.

"We both know you only got that promotion because I was in sickbay for half a week." He jibes back as we both head to the briefing room.

"Quiet scheisskopf. So, what do you think's going on?"

"If I had to guess, anti-terror ops. I mean, if we're actually going into action. If not, someone probably managed to hurt himself doing something stupid and it's a safety brief."

"Fair enough. Hope we're actually gonna do something, I'm tired of sitting around with my thumb up my ass."

"Amen to that."

Eventually we reached the briefing room. By necessity it was a small room, albeit normally used by the onboard air wing. That means this is important. It looks like the pilots were recently forced out, considering the detritus scattered around the room it was mid-brief too.

"Revio."

"Yeah Johann?"

"This is big."

"Why so?"

"Why else would they have forced the flyboys out? I mean, this is an enclosed area and normally for a major op, they'd just give the brief over intercom or just assemble us in a large open area and start shouting. This looks like they want some degree of secrecy involved." I say as the last of the company files in. Not long after, the man giving the briefing walks in.

"Since when did the Colonel give briefings?"

"ATTENTION!" Somebody shouts and we all immediately snap to attention, saluting the Colonel.

"At ease Raiders." The Colonel says, returning the salute as we all sit down, all eager to hear whatever's going on. "At approximately 1820 local time, a cruise ship by the name of "Gentle Seas' operating under the Pleasant Waters cruise line sent out a distress call saying that it had been boarded by a force of armed men. Before the ship went dark, they reported at least three craft, carrying anywhere between thirty and sixty men. That's not all either, preliminary reports say that a European physicists group is holding an event onboard."

"Shit." I mutter. I raise my hand.

"Yes Marine?"

"I'm guessing that at least a few have the skills available to create a nuclear device."

"That is the worst-case scenario." The Colonel responds. "Now, a reconsat canvassed the area recently so the ship should be somewhere around here. The Colonel says, pointing to a zoomed in projection on the briefing room's whiteboard. In the bottom left of the map lies Singapore and our current location is marked near the right-middle of the plot. The cruise ship is marked as being somewhere near a cluster of islands. Five large enough to have names on the projection and a whole mess of smaller landmasses. "The Ronald Reagan and her CSG are about 350 miles northeast of us and they've already launched a recon bird and a flight of strike craft to locate the cruise ship. Now our first wave into the ship will be three squads inserted onto the deck with sniper support from the top of the bridge. Now I need a show of hands, who here is fluent in a European language? And yes, I am counting Spanish among them."

I raise my hand, along with a half-dozen others.

"Alright then, how many squads do they represent?" The Colonel turns to our Major, who looks over us and thinks for a couple of seconds.

"Three sir."

"Oh, good. You men and your fireteams are the first wave onto the ship. You'll be inserting via helo under covering fire from snipers and the deck-mounted Deuces. After you secure the deck, we will pull up alongside and the rest of you will board the ship to secure the area and secure the civvies. We'll be at the cruise ship's last known location in about two hours. I'll leave it to Lt. Gerald to organize the onboard portion of the strike. Semper Fi, carry on." The Colonel said before leaving.

"Alright then Marines, this is our target." The Major says, bringing up a schematic of the ship.

(August 24, 2016, 2047 Local time)

[Bonhomme Richard, 31st MEU. Approaching last known location of Graceful Seas]

"Alright, reports from the Navy are in. The Graceful Seas has moved just offshore of this island cluster here." The Major points to a cluster of three decently-sized islands.

AN: Co-ordinates: 3N,106E if you want to get an idea of where things are going on.

The rough plan is as follows: the three squads would split into their two component 5-man fireteams and 4-man command element. The first step is to clear and secure the deck area, and then move into the main structure. My fireteam (unfortunately down a man as our fifth is in sickbay with a pulled muscle in his leg. The docs say he'll be good in a couple of days), along with the Captain and his team, are designated to take the bridge. Another two teams are to secure the engine room, two to hold the deck until the Richard unloads the rest of our company. Finally was one team for each of the three lower decks. As soon as the rest of the company boards, the two on-deck fireteams will secure the (smaller) top two decks. The Major and his command team will board with the rest of the company and direct the battle as it develops.

(October 24, 2016, 2116 Local time)

[Bonhomme Richard, 31st MEU. Approaching location of Graceful Seas]

As we approach the Graceful Seas, the two destroyers assigned to us for security (the DDG-89 Mustin and DDG-62 Fitzgerald) move out to box in the Graceful Seas, although it doesn't appear that they have any intention of moving. We're assembled on deck and have already gone through the armory and we're all kitted up. I have the usual M4A1 carbine with an ACOG sight and laser light/flashlight combo on the side rails with an angled under barrel grip, much like one would expect from BF4. The carbine is attached to a three-point sling, and on my left hip is holstered a .45 caliber MARSOC pistol, effectively an M1911. Also on my person are a bayonet, a hatchet, a frag grenade and three flashbangs. I'm a bit excited, this being my first operation since being assigned to the MEU, having previously been deployed to Iraq. My reflections are interrupted by the sound of a deck gun firing in the distance. 'Guess that's the destroyers dealing with the craft sent to board the Gentle Seas. What an annoying bloody name. Hope they haven't run off, it'd be a shame to miss this 'cause the enemy wimped out.'

(October 24, 2016, 2129 Local time)

[Bonhomme Richard, 31st MEU. Boarding of Graceful Seas in progress]

As we approach the the cruise ship, I can barely make out the steady crack of the snipers doing their deadly work. As the Richard drew closer, the .50s mounted on the side of the ship opened up, short bursts of tracer covering our final approach in three UH-1Y 'Venom' helicopters. My fireteam is the first to deploy from our helicopter. We are near the front-middle of the ship, the second helo is offloading near the back of the ship, and the third is circling until one of the other two finishes unloading. As I get ready to fast-rope down, I see about a dozen bodies sprawled on the deck. Most are wearing dark grey uniforms, boots and balaclavas but I can see a few civvies either unconscious or dead on the ground. As I look down, I hear a bang and see a man with an RPG on the upper deck fall back, his head blown off by an anti-materiel rifle. "Remind me to buy those snipers a round next time we make it to port." I say, as the loadmaster gives us the go-ahead to rope down, one from either of the chopper's open doors. The rhythmic chatter of the .50s cuts off as Revio and I rope down to the deck. I turn on my radio.

"This is boarding team Two, we are on the deck. Repeat: boarding team Two is on the deck."

*Copy that* I hear the Major reply from the deck of the Richard.

We both quickly dash to a nearby drink bar to take cover as our two comrades, Garcia and Jones, rope down after us. Ahead of us is the open door to the Cruise ship's main dining area. I can make out a dozen or so civvies huddled in a cluster in front of a serving table, behind which are maybe five armed hostiles, who immediately open fire. Revio and I duck behind the bar while Garcia and Jones duck behind whatever hard cover they can find. I switch channels on my radio.

"Sniper teams, this is boarding team Two, repeat sniper teams, this is boarding party. Does anyone have eyes on the hostiles in the dining room. They're using human shields." I say.

*Sorry boarding party, we don't have eyes on them* One spotter says. The same message is echoed by two of the other teams.

*Boarding team Two this is sniper team Two, we have eyes on two of them. Opening fire.*

"You guys the ones that took out the RPG?"

*Sure are.*

"Well next time we make port your drinks are on me."

*Hoorah Boarding Two. Over and out.*

I change the radio to the squad frequency.

"Alright, the snipers are going to try and take out as many of these guys as they can. Revio, you think you can flash 'em?"

"Thought you'd never ask." He responds as he preps a flashbang.

"Garcia. Jones. Get ready to make a break to the wall." I say, "Revio, on my mark." He nods. "NOW!" He tosses the flashbang clear past the terrified civvies and into the cover the hostiles were using. A few seconds later it detonates. "GO! GO! GO!" I shout as we rush to either side of the doors to the dining area. I can see the civvies doing their best to hug the ground, crying and screaming. I can also see three hostiles stumbling around, stunned by the flashbangs. As I bring my carbine up, I see one stumble too close to the windows along the side of the room and with a crack, he falls to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Revio and I each fire off a burst and the two remaining hostiles drop.

"Cover me!" Revio shouts as Garcia and Jones join us next to the door.

"Jawohl." I respond as he dashes to the serving table the hostiles were using just moments before. "Clear." He shouts and the three of us quickly move up to join him.

"Stay down!" I order the civvies. :German: "Stay down." I also order in German.

The radio crackles with announcements from boarding teams One and Four that they had made it to the deck.

There are two doors that lead out of the Dining area, past a few sets of serving tables and quite a few dining tables.

*ALL BOARDING TEAMS, AN UNKNOWN CRAFT HAS JUST EXITED A DEAD ZONE IN OUR RADAR COVERAGE AND IS HEADING STRAIGHT FOR YOU. IT IS A SMALL CRAFT APPROXIMATELY 80 FEET IN LENGTH AND MOVING FAST. COMMAND OUT.*

"Why do they have to set those damn things so loud." I mutter as the Captain and his team take cover behind a set of serving tables further into the room.

"Sgt. Meier!"

"YESSIR?" I respond.

"Take your team and hold the deck, we'll take it from here. Make sure nobody gets on or off this boat!"

"SIR YES SIR!" I respond. "You heard the man!" I say, pointing to the door back out to the deck. "Let's move it!" I continue.

"Yes sir!" The others respond as we rush outside. We take cover behind the barriers along the side of the ship and quickly spot the incoming ship.

"It's a damn torpedo boat!" I exclaim.

"Well shit, I thought we scrapped those things at the end of the war." Garcia says.

"We did, burned most of them. Guess at least one made it. Or at least someone decided to start turnin 'em out again." I say, peering through my sight at the boat, covered in gleaming steel. "Wait, is that? Shit." I say, switching channels again to general broadcast. "This is Boarding Two, incoming contact likely hostile, at least one figure on deck matches appearance of hostile contacts. And it's a freaking PT boat, looks like it has torpedos too." I add as it nears us, using the cruise ship as cover from the guns of the RIchard and the escorting destroyers. "Looks like they're-" I'm cut off by another voice on the radio.

*Team Four reporting heavy contact, they're counter attacking from the aft. They're moving hostages too, at least two dozen hostiles with maybe half a dozen human shields and hostages.* 'Shit.'

"The PT boat is moving aft as well, looks like they're heading for… shit. They've got ladders hooked up to the side of the ship near the aft. Looks like they're trying to get someone off." I say.

*This is Boarding Team Five, we've taken casualties, repeat we have wounded. Hostiles are keeping us pinned while they move aft.*

*Boarding Four, we're pinned too. They've got us in some passenger cabins. No wounded but they've got us locked down tight.*

*Boarding Six, they've made it to the deck! We're laying down supp- SHIT! GRENADES!" I hear a series of overlapped detonations.

"Shit!" I say, realizing how bad our situation is. I switch back to squad frequency. "Jones, Garcia. With me. We've got to keep them from flanking us. Revio, hold it down here."

"Yes sir!" They respond as one.

We quickly take positions to cover the walkway leading down the side of the cruise ship. Fortunately for us there were a number of bollards and supports installed so we could easily take potshots from behind cover as a dozen or so hostiles rushed into view at the far end of the ship. I opened fire along with Jones and Garcia. Garcia and I both had M4A1 carbines but Jones was our support gunner, and he was armed with a factory-fresh M27 IAR (Infantry Automatic Rifle) and a heavier ammo-loadout than us, so he was laying down short bursts of rifle fire laying prone on the deck, with most of his body hidden behind a steel bollard used to tie the ship down during docking. Three hostiles dropped almost immediately before the others even noticed us. Six of the nine remaining hostiles quickly took cover and returned fire. The others moved to the ladders and started forcing the hostages down them. I turned to the left to take a look at the PT boat, bobbing beside the cruise ship. I spot a half-dozen figures on the deck. Four definite hostiles offloading hostages and escorting them belowdecks, a man dressed in what looks like an office-worker's clothes, unarmed and who appears to be talking casually with a redheaded woman wearing a tank-top with dual pistol holsters under her arms. On her right shoulder and arm appears to be some sort of black tattoo. I switch back to the open channel.

"Boarding Two to 're offloading hostages onto the boat. Four confirmed hostiles onboard, two crew, six hostages. All hostiles and one crew member are definitely armed. Permission to engage?"

*Permission granted. Make them bleed.* The Colonel responds.

"Jawohl Mein Colonel." I respond and bring my rifle to my shoulder and firing two three-round bursts, knocking one hostile from his feet and to the ground. The others notice me pretty quickly after that and one hostile and the armed crew-woman open fire at me. The hostile with an AK-type weapon and the crew-woman with dual pistols. I feel something punch me in the chest and I stumble back a step or two. "THANK DUPONT." I exclaim, realizing that their Kevlar just saved my damn life. Over the radio, I hear confirmation that boarding squad three is on deck.

"Boarding Squad Three this is Team Two, request support to starboard, preferably someone with a grenade launcher or another automatic rifle. We need to disable that boat, they're almost done loading the hostages."

*Copy that Boarding Two. Boarding Eight moving to support you.*

"Thanks, much appreciated." I radio back as I start ripping off three-round bursts at the hostiles on the PT. Three more had appeared from belowdecks so I just started putting them down. Pretty soon, however, the rifle clicked empty so I ducked behind my trusty piece of ship and changed mags. By the time I'd finished, team Eight had arrived and was putting rounds into the now-fleeing PT boat. A few hostiles were still left on deck and the two crewmembers I'd seen were gone. "DAMMMIT! Bastards!" I shout, firing off bursts at the fleeing ship.

*Enemy forces have moved beyond effective range. Squad Three out.*

"Shit." I mutter. "Guess it's time to clean up the rest." I mutter, turning to fire again at the hostiles to port. About ten minutes later, it's all over. The final tally was as follows: 43 hostiles dead, four civvies dead, five wounded, the rest terrified beyond reason, one Marine dead, five wounded (two heavily the rest minorly) and one hostile captured alive.


End file.
